And then I think too much in general and end up feeling like young Woody Allen in the first five minutes of "Annie Hall."
Universe expansion aside, I feel like I'm moving in slow motion towards the inevitable end of something that's difficult to let go of. And that's why I'm not writing about zombies or dance parties or indie rock tonight. Tonight, I am a bit of a sad panda.
But enough melodrama. I should sleep. I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning. And if I don't, I'll pull up my Ice MC station on Pandora and blast ridiculously upbeat 90s eurodance until my mood improves.